On my last trip to Singapore I reluctantly came to the conclusion I wasn't meant to wear a jade bangle like thousands of Asian women do.
A Farewell to Jade
The stone disdains me.
These gems drooped my lobes to the size
of Dumbo ears. A solid bracelet I once
bought in Singapore shattered,
slicing my wrist.
Deaf to its language, I waltzed off as it
tried to forewarn me.
On a return trip, I searched for a bangle
in Chinatown among old jewelry haunts.
Three days later I fell, fracturing my elbow
and the emerald panache I had purchased.
"Stay away form jade," my superstitious
hosts said. "There must be more harmony
with your birthstone."
Amethysts' washed-out hue frustrated
my attempts to be elegant, but they knew
it existed as more than the pale stone.
Saturated plum and rich mulberry conspired
with my deeper desires.
I now wear a sparkly chain
with February attached.
Marilyn Aschoff Mellor
